A few poems

Well, I've been a fan of your writing since I first saw it in edgar's thread. I know what you mean about the diffuculty finding bits of your own work you feel have merit. I have people telling me to publish, and I look at everything I have saved and think "Well, there are only about 15 pieces I like....hardly enough for a book..." I suppose many writers have trouble letting go of their 'babies'. I could edit all day, and still not get anywhere creatively, in my mind. Keep posting, it's a great idea to keep everything in one place.

Thank you, Fortune; you know that I highly value your taste... you know, both of those pieces were actually rejects? The first was for a venture a while ago that never came off the ground; the latter was an A2K spontaneous poem, but I wrote it in the first person.... Unfortunately, there is a bias in poetry, an unwritten prejudice, that says that everything that a woman writes is somehow autobiographical, and a man's work objective unless he specifies otherwise. So, I changed it so that it was clear that I was writing objectively... I often write from other viewpoints, about things that don't involve me at all, but some people too ardently think otherwise ...

You know, Cav, that there are at least thirty-five poems of yours hanging around that you could publish... and this is just from what I have seen. However, though it is difficult to judge one's poetry for oneself, it is twice as difficult to let someone else judge ;D.

Hmm...35 eh...well, I suppose I'm on my way then! Heh, I so have to let go of a few...

Speaking of poetic bias drom, sometimes it's all in a name. I don't know if you read about Crad Kilodney's stunt where he plagiarised award-winning Canadian poems word for word and sent them to publishers with his own name as 'author'. All were rejected, and none of the works were recognized either.

35, yes, and that is without counting 'Rabbit and Wolf,' which all qualify under a different category...

Out of interest, which are the fifteen that you like?

I did hear about that, and I found it genius. I find it a shame that all books cannot be judged by content alone, but it has never been that way...

I know what you mean about that perspective thing, Drom. I've run into it a few times myself.

Grrr.

I'm just going over the list....so it will be in alphabetical order...I like A Haunting, A Kiss in Hendecasyllabes, Blues, Buzz and Hum, Bury Me With Roses, Emotional Grammar, Green Eyes Grey Skies, Sonnet on a West Cork Honeymoon, Medicated, On the Jazz, Our Dreams Collide, Serpentine, Smoke and Mirrors, The Precipice, and White Raven.

I'm actually iffy on 'Smoke and Mirrors', I still think it reads like 'poor me' drivel.

I love them all... Smoke and Mirrors is very good, one of the best of your contest-entries. Don't forget the Suite, though, Cav, heavens don't forget that.

O no; what happened, Fortune: they thought that __ poem was about you, and it wasn't?

Ahh, drom, the suite is one of my proudest moments, but it's saved as "On the Jazz: A Poetic Suite in 6 Movements", so it's on the list.

Yup, I've been accused of some very strange things because of my poetry and stories. You see, occasionally I shall intentionally take the part of a character quite different to myself. I always find it fascinating, however, to see how people react to the characters I make up. Often, when trying to project a certain personality, my audience will recieve an impression of something quite different. One little piece which I intended to be about a vaguely sadistic character imbued one listener with the unshakeable opinion that I was secretly suffering from an incurable broken heart (mind you this person was a young man with a saviour complex who had intentions, not reciprocated, of dating me). So I suppose people colour such work with their own personalities and expectations.

O; I never knew it under that name, Cav: I only knew it as 'Poetic suite.' It's a great name, the new one.

I have too... I have even had a nutter had-been author (Martin Amis) harass me for ages for a feminist manifesto and literary review that I wrote when I was younger, but that was because he was both a bigot and conceited. Vladimir Nabokov went through life with the pains of being seen as Humbert Humbert.... Sylvia Plath left Ariel, and is seen through those poems rather than the far better Crossing the Water. I guess that this all derives from people's longing to marginalise and categorise. Two of Shakespeare's finest acheivements -- Measure for Measure and Troilus and Cressida-- were out of favour until the 20th century because of their being unclassifiable, not fitting into one niche or another (this is worsened by niche marketing.) Even now, they are neglected with comparison to 'star cross'd lovers' and ones 'who loved not wisely but too well.'

drom, you know what's interesting....I always took 'Lolita' to be Nabokov's treatise on an infatuation with the English language, and America as a young, developing country, that is ultimately toxic to 'old world' ways. The pedophilia angle has been so overplayed it's become ridiculous.

I agree, Cav. Lolita is one of my favourite books of all time. My first copy was burnt by my mother. There is not much pædophilia in it at all. Rather, it shows a sort of conjuration of language, a bizarre unrequited love story, and one of the most effective portraits of America ever painted. I always found Nabokov's work to be genius. Pale Fire is a work of genius. Books whose methods of discussing something are unusual, are difficult for most to understand. This is sad, because it means that less people are taking chances; being genrebending, as I said...

Yes, it is sad really, that people are stupid. Why would ANY author write a novel about a taboo subject without a secondary meaning?

The story of their love is a curious one. It is delicious, like the twisted little apples that grow in the orchards of oustide of town. In the fall one walks in the orchards and the ground is hard with frost underfoot. The apples have been taken from the trees by the pickers. They have been put in barrels and shipped to the cities where they will be eaten in apartments that are filled with books, magazines, furniture, and people. On the trees are only a few gnarled apples that the pickers have rejected. They look like the knuckles on the farmers hands. One nibbles at them and they are delicious. Into a little round place at the side of the apple has been gathered all of its sweetness. One runs from tree to tree over the frosted ground picking the gnarled, twisted apples and filling his pockets with them. Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.

That is some fine metaphor dys, truly.

Drom, it has been a remarkable experience to read your poems all at once. I'm stunned at your refreshing unsentimental view of humanity and your way of making flawed humans unlikeable but acceptable in their weakness.

If you do decide to put all your writing in a folder on Yahoo, please let the rest of us know how to find it and continue to enjoy your talent.

I so agree about Lolita. Pedophilia is only the perspective of other, drab and unimaginative onlookers.